one
MAYA
My phone buzzedon the counter beside me.
Again.
I bit my cheek in an attempt to stop myself from grinning, trying to focus on the sauces I had cooking on my stove.
I was supposed to be pissed that a werewolf guy was messaging me over and over. I’d forced myself to block his number after the first text, and tried to ignore the ones that followed.
But I’d given up after the first three.
It was hard not to, honestly.
His first message was pretty ridiculous, and I’d responded accordingly.
Ethan
Hey, Maya. This is Ethan. Your friends gave me your number. Can we meet up for drinks or something sometime? I think we’d get along
Me
No
I’d blocked him after turning him down. No point in continuing a conversation that might give him hope that we’d end up together. I was absolutely uninterested in trying my hand at mating with a werewolf again.
And considering allfiveof my friends had now ended up paired with guys from the same pack, which only consisted of six men, there was no question about it. I was going to end up mated to Ethan if I ever looked into his eyes.
I wasn’t going to let that happen. Not even maybe.
Yes, the pictures my friends had sent of him made it clear he was insanely attractive. But the past had proven to me that the prettiest men could be the cruelest.
I wasn’t going to risk going there again.
So, I hadn’t planned on responding to Ethan’s messages. Or even reading them.
But he’d figured out a way around me blocking his number, because he sent me a text from another one. And he was craftier this time.
It was a picture I’d taken of a dessert I’d made, followed by a question.
Ethan
How the fuck did you make this? I stalked you on social media and saw this at the top
Can I have the recipe? I was supposed to be rationing the cake Emmy made me last week, but I ate it all this morning
Or we could meet up and you could teach me how to make it
I could provide candy and chips. I’m not much of a cook, but I have serious snack game
The next message was a picture of what looked like a massive closet or pantry, and it was absolutely filled to the brim with snacks and candy.
I zoomed in, going over every shelf.
Unmated werewolves did something called nesting before they met their mate. Sometimes they had an urge to collect random items they’d need, like food and toilet paper and toothbrushes. Other times, nature pushed them to collect something specific to their mate, like a certain type of hair product, or shoes in their future mate’s size and style.
It was incredibly weird.
